[Phoenix]

WHITESHADE LightningClan || Senior Warrior

Only when he had a warm body struggling beneath his claws was he ever, truly, in his element. He relished the sensation of power, that exhilarating rush, that came from the knowledge that he had the control over another creature's fate. Him and no one else. It was practically electrifying, and up until a few moons ago, he had been under the incorrect impression that he and his sister, who did not appreciate it nearly as much as she should, were the only felines capable of that deliciously dark opinion. As a result of the long days spent slaving under the sun, drilling the minute details into his apprentice until he could perferm the action with a precision unrivaled by few others, he had become very familiar with the young, black and white tom under his tutelage. Ever since the other feline's first catch, he had been grooming him, slowly, meticulously extracting that beautiful potential and molding it into something useful. It was an oddly convenient coincidence, that the tom was his own. Nightpaw, too, had an appreciation for the allure of bloodshed. He was just the cat who would recognize it for what it was, and instead of scorn him, nurture it and cultivate it into something worthwhile. And cultivate it, he had. Nightpaw was not yet nearing the end of his apprenticeship, but Whiteshade's fastidious work had already had an effect. Perhaps his opinion was a little biased, but out of all the pathetic youth they called apprentices, his own was far more deserving of the title than his den mates. He carried himself with a confidence, perhaps only visible to his mentor's eyes, that the others lacked. He had a promising future ahead of him. Though he was very firm in his opinion on this particular point, he recognized and acknowledged the importance of having actual evidence to back it up. Therefore, he had enlisted the help of his dear sister and her own apprentice, who was about the same age as Nightpaw, though he did not care enough to confirm his guess, and the siblings would watch as their apprentices sparred with one another. He had no doubt about who would emerge victorious, and should his expectations be proven wrong, someone would make up for it in the form of vigorous training that would make the past few moons look gentle. Alabaster limbs led the unlikely quartet down the familiar path to the flat area that marked out the training grounds, carrying their owner's equally pale frame alongside his sister's lean one. As usual, he travelled in silence, every movement calculated and deliberate for the utmost efficiency. Crimson eyes scanned the area before him as they entered it, and seeing the unusual sight of a lone, white apprentice with blue eyes stalking a rock, the feline strode over to the unfortunate creature without hesitation. "It would be a wise idea to vacate this area," He suggested, voice surprisingly mild as he addressed the other cat. Icepaw simply looked up at him, and he doubted the tom's intelligence as he had many times before. "Now." Perhaps it was the dangerous tone underlying his otherwise courteous voice or the promise of unpleasant consequences should he be disinclined to obey the direct order, but that single word was enough to get the younger white cat moving. With a patter of paws, he was gone. Red eyes watched him go with something akin to disgust lurking in their depths before returning to the two apprentices. "Today your fighting skills will be assessed," He spoke smoothly, even as he strode back to the group of felines. Though he included his sister and her pathetic excuse for an apprentice in his sweeping gaze, the tone of his voice indicated that he was predominately addressing his own apprentice. "Cherrypool and Goldenpaw have been generous enough to volunteer their services." The 'with a little persuasion' was implied at the end with the slight pause between sentences. "Basic rules for sparring apply here, I think," He added this, somewhat reluctantly, with a meaningful look in his apprentice's direction. As much as he would adore seeing blood shed on the training ground, it would make for some rather compromising explanations later. "Unless..." He turned to his sister, a politely curious expression adorning his features, "You would like otherwise?" If Cherrypool was willing to risk her apprentice's safety for the sake of realism, who was he to step in the way? It would make for an exciting show, at the very least.

[Fawn]

CHERRYPOOL Senior Warrior. LightningClan.

So at last this fateful day had arrived. It wasn't necessarily dread that had been building up like a carefully constructed beavers' dam in the pit of her stomach; it was more along the lines of being put on the opposing side of the tom she had spent her entire life standing beside. Despite their slightly contradictory personalities - they were a little more similar than she would ever care to admit, and not just in looks - Cherrypool had always felt a kinship with the red eyed, white devil of LightningClan. They had come into this world together, and while Cherrypool had the creeping suspicion that he would outlive her and soak the world in blood long after her bones had settled into the earth, she was not necessarily enjoying the idea of comparing her teaching methods and apprentice with his own. Crimson gaze swiftly glancing from her own Goldenpaw - and a smile tugged at the corners of her muzzle - to the black and white tom Whiteshade had taken under his alabaster wing, Cherrypool silently sized him up. Another white blur hurried through her peripherals, and it was through scent alone that she was able to identify that fleeting being as Icepaw, no thoughts accompanying this revelation - not when her attention was so utterly wrapped around this training session. She had witnessed Nightpaw chase his opponent off the battlefield. Had he been her own apprentice, she would have been immensely proud, however, there was a part of the albino feline that, despite her subconscious need to compare and contrast Goldenpaw with Nightpaw, was actually quite pleased Goldenpaw had not been there at the border skirmish. As if she expected to feel claws rake down her flanks, Cherrypool rasped a bright pink tongue over the snowy fur on her shoulder, a single ear flicking in Whiteshade's direction when he spoke - with some reluctance - of the typical sparring rules. As if I'd ever let Goldenpaw enter a fight when the rules aren't fair. I don't know what you've been teaching Nightpaw, but they are Clanmates at the end of the day, not enemies. Cherrypool's tail twitched to coincide with a sharp dip of the head. "Basic rules." She replied, meeting Whiteshade's gaze evenly, a flicker of knowing pass through her own vermillion orbs. "If this fight gets out of hand, however, I will be stepping in." That was for everyone involved. Nightpaw, Whiteshade and Goldenpaw. She would sooner allow her tail to be bitten off than watch Goldenpaw get in over his head; he was up against an apprentice the devil had been whispering to. Cherrypool would know. That devil was her brother, after all.

I FEAR WHO I AM BECOMING.

[BlooRey DVD]

[smear:000000]Nightpaw[/smear:FFFFFF]
~~~~~~~

The tom padded behind his mentor silently, ears pricked and alert. His blue eyes moved from his mentor to the other albino warrior who strode in front of him. He was intrigued by the pair. He wondered if all they had in common was the color of their pelts and eyes. Standing side by side, they could be quite a shock to any onlooker. Some might call them the Devils of LightningClan. A thought did trickle through his mind, however. Not all Devils were so obvious. Even the most innocent looking could hide something within. The subconscious flexing of his claws seemed to prove just that. His tail snaked slowly in the air, almost like a dancer who was caught in slow motion.

He slowed to a stop, remaining beside Cherrypool while his mentor, Whiteshade, approached another snow-white pelted cat. The apprentice recognized the tom as a den mate of his, Icepaw. His blue eyes watched curiously as the tom all but fled. Whatever Whiteshade had said to the other apprentice had apparently worked in getting him to clear the area. There was no one left but the two albino siblings and their apprentices. Nightpaw's sharp blue gaze was focused on Whiteshade as the tom approached. He listened carefully as the white tom spoke, and it was obvious that the black and white apprentice took everything that the older tom said in consideration. In Nightpaw's opinion, Whiteshade had the ability to make him into something great. Whiteshade didn't push aside his questions. Nowadays, the black and white apprentice had fewer and fewer questions, but that was besides the point. It still stood that Whiteshade had been one of the first cats to actually listen to him.

He hadn't forgotten. He never forgot. The conversation he'd had with the albino and Jaggedheart remained burned in his mind. Black ears swivelled to Cherrypool as the she-cat spoke, and the tom forced his gaze to peel away from Whiteshade, and focus onto the older tom's sister. He was almost disappointed to hear the she-cat state that basic rules would be held. He was intrigued when she stated she would interfere if things got out of hand. He wondered just how well she could hold her own in a battle. He doubted she'd stand a chance against Whiteshade. The smaller black and white apprentice honestly wondered if anyone stood a chance against the white furred tom. It wouldn't surprise him if no one did.

To think that he's my mentor. A flicker of a grin swept over his maw, but he suppressed it almost instantly. It seemed the two albino warriors had set up the ground rules. Did that mean they could begin? He nodded his head, meowing somewhat coldly. "Basic rules. Understood." His claws flexed, biting into the ground, before retracting once more. He padded away slightly, turning to face the two warriors. His real focus was the golden tom amidst them. The black and white tom's stance was ready, attentive. He was ready to spar. All he needed now was an opponent.

[Deleted]

Goldenpaw seemed to be rather oblivious that he was walking into the meat grinder, however he wasn’t actually unaware at all… he knew full well that Nightpaw was going to crush him up and spit him out. He had a job to do though, he was going to make Cherrypool proud and he planned on making her feel good about herself and her training to boot! Goldenpaw knew she had earned that feeling, and so much more but alas this was all he could give her. So he pushed the thought of what he was about to endure out of his mind and stayed strong for Cherrypool, he did love her after all. The strange thing was if it was any other cat he wouldn’t care so deeply for them, but because Cherrypool was who she was Goldenpaw had made a deep spot in his heart for her and she was filling it well. It seemed like a long walk to the gallows as they left camp and made their way towards where they would be sparring, and he did show a slight bit of fear as Icepaw scrambled away in a haste but he quickly tried to wipe it from his maw and replace it with a look of friendliness and good nature. He listened to the rules from Whiteshade and remained silent as his mentor put in her own stipulations. “Yes Cherrypool, yes Whiteshade.” He said in a very polite tone as he dipped his head to each in turn, he then turned and gave Cherrypool a slow affectionate nuzzle whilst purring before stepping onto the battlefield. He knew how this was supposed to go, however he couldn’t shake the feeling that he was fighting for so much more than his opponent could ever realize.

[Phoenix]

WHITESHADE LightningClan || Senior Warrior

Was he disappointed at the lack of desire to take risks - while simultaneously putting a limit on the amusement he would be able to derive from this exercise - that Cherrypool showed? Of course. He would be worried had he felt otherwise. But surprised? Never. All in all, it was a decision that only emphasied the pathetic state into which the felines of the newer generations were falling. His desire for unsheathed claws was founded solely from his belief that realism was an important part of training, of course. Enemy clans would not fight with sheathed claws, and it would be very unfortunate should one of their own hesitate and falter at the first sensation of pain and the first sight of that beautiful, liquid crimson pouring down a feline's pelt. But it was their loss, and if that hesitation resulted in the loss of a life, especially of those so young, he would feel very regretful that he had not pressed the matter. So regretful that the mere thought of the event had him itching to sink his claws into the aggressor's pelt. Purely out of a desire for revenge, of course. As he managed to keep the sneer from curling his lip upward, a slight twitch of his tail was the only indication of his irritation at her predictable response. "Very well," He reiterated, inclining his head in agreement to her terms. Scarlet eyes watched as the weak creature, whom his sister called her appretice, nuzzled the she-cat's fur in a disgusting show of emotion, and when the amount of repulsion pulsing through his veins had reached a new high, he averted his gaze to his own apprentice. Nightpaw, he was pleased to note, was nearly the epitome of a feline ready to go into battle. Focused on his goal and attentive to his surroundings, he could already see the strategic gears turning in the black and white feline's head. He held the blue-eyed gaze steadily, silently reminding his apprentice of the expectations and the consequences should he fail to meet them. A glance back at the lamentable pair of LightingClan cats beside him told him that Nightpaw's opponent had finished saying his farewells to his mentor. "Ready." He spoke evenly, voice suggesting a command more than a question. Enjoying the tension that had begun to build between the two as they waited for his mark, he paused for a few moments, stretching them on with a painful slowness. Only when he thought he saw muscles begin to relax did the alabaster tom state simply, "Begin." Basic rules or not, he expected a show. Even though his apprentice was restricted to keeping his claws sheathed, he had little doubt that Nightpaw was not the superior fighter in this match up, not only in skill but also in agility and strategy. It would prove to be very enlightening to see how the black and white tom handled a battle situation in which he could not simply dart in and out, slowly ripping his opponent to shreds with well-placed blows, regardless of their joint desire to have it be otherwise. For one with an appearance so intimidating, Cherrypool could be incredibly soft at times, as if acting in such a way would eradicate the monster, which they both knew resided within her. She was so weak, and her apprentice would only turn out to be the same. At the very least, he consoled himself as he watched the two victims of his whims face off. I will enjoy seeing Goldenpaw flounder and struggle.

[Fawn]

CHERRYPOOL Senior Warrior. LightningClan.

The narrow-eyed intent with which she had been studying Nightpaw was abruptly broken, like a spellcaster interrupted mid-incantation by the soft display of affection from her apprentice, a small smile creeping across Cherrypool's bone-white muzzle automatically now, the she-cat realizing with a slight jolt of the heart that she was actually starting to like, no, getting USED to these little nuzzles of his. Trying to rid her head of such fuzzy thoughts, the alabaster warrior resumed her grim look of sobriety, blood eyes shifting to their corners to study the ever-composed profile of her brother, quietly wondering, probing his mind for what dark and deadly tricks of the trade he had departed upon Nightpaw. That tom could grow up to be a problem. It wasn't as if she neglected to teach Goldenpaw the true art of violence; it wasn't as if she'd forgotten what part of warriorhood she shamefully enjoyed the most. The topic had been abandoned after recognition that his psyche, or rather, his personality was not a good match for such a thing. The day Goldenpaw purposefully killed someone in battle was the day she ate her own foot. A trickle of nervousness flowed from the river that was her thoughts, a steady backlash of memories piling on top of one another as she recalled the numerous battle sessions she had had with her young pupil. Did I work him hard enough? Did I provide him with enough battle techniques to work with? Worry gnawed at her with jagged, jackal's teeth, shifting her posture into something sharp and tense, as though she were prepared to lash out at anything that came close. Forcing herself to not look so apparently unsettled, Cherrypool's jaws parted to draw in a deep, lung-chilling breath, filling her chest with cool spring air. I trust HIM not to die, I just don't trust THEM not to try and kill him. Once again, her shoulders threatened to tense and give her a hunched appearance, like a vulture picking rotten meat from a corpse, the urge to stop the fight even before it began strong, but not overwhelming. Could she attack Nightpaw in Goldenpaw's defense? ...Yes. Yes she could. She could attack anyone with a reason, and possibly even without one. That was the monster she kept at bay, moments like this, that arrogant, bloody stare of her brother who had already lumped both her and Goldenpaw in the 'crowfood' pile long ago - those things baited that monster, like hanging chunks of meat before a chained beast, the smell alone enough to drive anyone mad. Cherrypool closed her eyes, grappling with a rising bloodlust, feeling her throat tighten as though she might actually become sick with battle-lust. StarClan - the Dark Forest, even, look after Goldenpaw, or so help me... An alabaster tail-tip twitched, lifting and falling in a lazy rhythm as the two apprentices entered the fighting area. Forget the ancestors, both dark and light. If Goldenpaw was in trouble, then she would rip apart the heavens to save him - even from something as uncommonly sinister as death by his own Clanmate's claws.

I FEAR WHO I AM BECOMING.

[BlooRey DVD]

[smear:000000]Nightpaw[/smear:FFFFFF]
~~~~~~~~

Blue eyes were void of everything, save for an almost unnatural amount of concentration. There was a determination boiling deep within his belly, pushing him to do his absolute best. He knew that Whiteshade's sharp red eyes would be watching his every move. He could feel an uneasiness coming from who he assumed was Cherrypool, but he didn't dare move his eyes. Let her feel uncomfortable. Let her be weary of him. Let her think he could easily harm Goldenpaw. Because he could. There wasn't an inch of doubt in his mind that he wouldn't be able to hurt Cherrypool's precious little Goldenpaw. His blood sung with exhilaration, something deep within his mind purring at him to ignore the rules that had been laid down and draw that red liquid that could bring a grin to his features.

It would be... So easy.

A slow flick of his tail brought him back to the here and now. He was getting a little bit impatient now, but he wouldn't let that control him. Impatience led to rushed judgements, which led to mistakes. He hated mistakes. A steadying breath left him in a silent whoosh of air as he blinked his blue gaze. When Whiteshade let slip the word ready, Nightpaw's body lowered fractionally to the ground, every muscle prepared to strike out as soon as the command was given. Time seemed to slow down for the tom, his heart picking up slightly, blood roaring in his ears.

So close....

Nightpaw's sharp mind registered the command to begin so quickly he was hardly aware of himself springing forward. As he moved, however, his mind created a plan, giving him a purpose and a direction. He wasn't some battle crazed feline darting forth at the speed of light to go and get killed due to rushed stupidity. This was a creature being preened by the devil himself. Eyes narrowing slightly, Nightpaw leapt forward, his jump crooked rather than straight. He wasn't aiming to leap right on to Goldenpaw. No. He wanted to see what he was up against, test reaction times, balance. Play with the prey before the real hunt.

His claws flashed out as his paws hit the ground, biting into the soft earth, giving him a strong grip as he threw his momentum to the side rather than forward, ramming his shoulder into the golden apprentice's side, before leaping away just as quickly. It would be intriguing to see how this other tom would react to him. If he was ready, he'd recover somehow. If not....

Well this would be just dandy.

[Deleted]

Goldenpaw was obviously outmatched and he was very much aware of that fact, it however wouldn’t stop him from trying. His lack of skill could be made up in other ways and this did give him a small advantage that Nightpaw wouldn’t even know about. The golden apprentice was nothing if not crafty, and he was going to use this creativity and most likely lack of tact to his advantage. Nightpaw had never faced an opponent like him before and Goldenpaw was going to make it a match to remember for the dark colored tom. He wasn’t at all caught off guard when Nightpaw moved to shove him and instead ducked away from him moving his shoulder in the same direction Nightpaw was pushing from before jumping back and making space. He started walking a circle around the dark apprentice as he waited for another strike. Goldenpaw didn’t know how he was going to beat him but he had faith that somehow he would manage it, he had confidence in himself though and he knew deep inside that it counted for more than the other would give him credit for. “So you black fur-ball, you gunna keep playing around or are we actually gunna fight?” He asked in a sing-song voice taunting Nightpaw, the first step of the plan he didn’t have was to show his opponent he held no fear of him in his heart.

[BlooRey DVD]

[smear:000000]Nightpaw[/smear:FFFFFF]
~~~~~~~~

One black ear flicked dismissively as Nightpaw caught Goldenpaw's words. His black tail was motionless behind him, something Whiteshade had taught him to do. On his first training session, his tail had been his balance beam, flashing from one side to the next to keep him up right. As he aged, however, his muscles and paws grew more capable of holding him up, keeping him level. Nightpaw's retaliation to Goldenpaw's string of attempted insults was a simple sentence, spoken in a voice that seemed frozen by the winds of Leafbare. He no longer had a kitten like voice. It seemed that every day it was getting a little deeper. He was still young, so it wasn't like Whiteshade's, for example. That didn't mean he couldn't sound threatening.

"Says the one who circles, waiting to be struck." Nightpaw had been following him only with his eyes, body low, fully prepared to take or deliver another strike. As the golden tom walked by him, quick as a flash he leapt out. His paw snapped out, aiming for the other tom's rump. His goal here was to throw the tom off balance. Keeping his momentum, the tom darted by, leaving no time for a retaliation. With a sharp veer, the slick black and white apprentice made a tight circle so that he was once again facing Goldenpaw. He didn't wait another moment. His legs pushed him forwards and he charged straight at his opponent. With a push, he leapt into the air, aiming his paws for the tom's flank.

Either he'd land on the tom's back, he'd push him off balance again with his weight, or the tom would manage to move out of the way, and Nightpaw would land on his white paws, as though he had meant for that to happen all along.